


|a day, a lesson and a way east|

by littlekaracan



Category: Ranger's Apprentice - John Flanagan
Genre: BECAUSE I LOVE THEM SUSAN, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, I guess., There's not a lot of angst, a lot of talk on interrogation, anyway. onto the warnings, but its not too bad., but theres not much of it. it's not that kinda fic, good ending? i think?, i don't know when this is set but probably between the first and the second ra books, i guess it's slight slash for alyss and will bc.... theyre both sunshines i love them, like this isnt really a sad fic so uh, like... not shine-a-lamp in your face, not that he ever stopped, surprisingly, violence. not so much described as talked about, we're talking medieval torture fellas, will is still a fluffball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-26
Updated: 2019-01-26
Packaged: 2019-10-17 06:41:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17555312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlekaracan/pseuds/littlekaracan
Summary: He watched as a single finger twitched under the strain of his hand. Halt had fixed his eyes on something outside - or, perhaps, nothing at all. Will swallowed, looking down at his shoes. 'Will I be like that,' he wondered voicelessly, 'Is there really no way to tolerate it?' Halt was, after all, used to most things one could get used to.Or, perhaps, getting used to carving people's insides was not a preference of his, and neither should it be Will's.





	|a day, a lesson and a way east|

**Author's Note:**

> my writer's resolution for 2019 was to publish more self-indulgent fics so I WILL PUBLISH MORE SELF-INDULGENT FICS IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO. if any higher powers don't like it, they can leave their complaints here, in the complaint trash can. who cares if my self-indulgence is 'like, some brutal shit but hey there's a parent-child relationship so we're good'. i hope you enjoy my steaming pot of garbage today, fellas

It'd started with an early morning letter - he wasn't sure if he could even call it morning, as the sun wasn't even up yet. A silent conversation Halt was having with a messenger was the sound that woke him up. It ended abruptly, Halt’s hard tone cutting through; the front door was closed with quite some creaking, and Will soon heard a horse trot away. Not a Ranger horse, he could tell by the noise it was making.  
  
Halt didn't come to haul him out of bed for a while, but Will could also hear him walking around the cabin picking things up and making little effort to be quiet, so he was probably not to have much more sleep.  
  
He got up himself, watching the wind blow leaves onto the window straight out of the dark thick fog outside. As he reached for his shirt, the loose belt slipped out of his hand and the buckle made a silent clack against the floor, and even though it wasn't all that loud, Halt's footsteps were disrupted for a moment before resuming again. Will cursed under his breath and picked up the pace, walking out of his room a few minutes later.  
  
"I was beginning to think there was a bear in your room," Halt said, not looking up from a letter - and his cup of coffee.  
  
"Good morning to you too, Halt." Will couldn't help feeling the corner of his lips twitch up. There was a second cup on the table, and he settled down in front of it; so, undoubtedly, Halt had heard him before, but he needn't always hyperbolize everything.   
  
Although, of course, this was Halt.  
  
And then came the game of patience. Halt knew Will had heard the messenger and would like to know what news he brought, and Will knew all the same Halt would tell him sooner or later. He'd gotten rather good at the game, if he said so himself.  
  
Halt was stubborn, however, reading through the letter he received over and over, seemingly not even noticing Will staring him down with large eyes. Tilting his head, Will realized his mentor could just be in genuine thought.   
  
"What's that saying?" He finally asked, and Halt looked up, dark eyes and equally dark shadows underneath them.  
  
"Not that much, for you," he replied, making quick work of his coffee and standing up. "We're going to Castle Redmont today."  
  
Already used to abrupt changes of plans at that point, Will asked, "What are we going to do?" Halt shrugged in response.  
  
"Not ask premature questions, for one."   
  
Will sighed quietly, also downing his coffee. It burnt his tongue a bit, and he grimaced.   
  
"What is it?"  
  
"Bit hot, isn't it?" Will asked, putting down the cup. The sides were still a bit warm, and so was Halt's expression, albeit a little mocking.  
  
"No one told you to drink it all at once," he said, snatching the cup from Will and taking it away along with his own. "We'll leave in a bit. See for Abelard and Tug."  
  
"Alright."  
  
Will threw on his cloak - the thick cloth served him rather well in the chilly mornings, and it was easy to notice Halt wrapping it around himself a little tighter outside, too. Autumn had come, and winter would soon follow behind.  
  
Tug seemed happy in the mornings, nodding his head and nudging Will with his nose softly. Will fed him a complimentary apple - a daily apple, Halt might grimly correct. Abelard was not above staring at Will long enough that the boy gave in and gave a second apple to him.  
  
"Tell Halt and we'll have problems," he warned the horse jokingly. Abelard stared at him with calm wide eyes as if to say _Don't you worry. I keep secrets better than anyone else._  
  
Of course, Halt had the fortune of walking inside right at this exchange.  
  
"Tell me what?" He questioned, and, before Will could answer, quirked an eyebrow. "We won't have any apples left soon if you keep doing that."  
  
"It's just two!" Will jumped to his and the horses’ defense. "They're up for a ride, too."  
  
"Mm." Halt only gestured faintly, and Abelard stood obediently in front of him, his tail swishing. _I got an apple, and you can't do anything about it._ "Yeah, yeah. Come here."  
  
Will promptly swung himself onto Tug too, who stepped in place eagerly, swaying the rider to the sides as he went. He trotted in front, stretching his legs. Abelard followed closely behind, covering the gap between them in no time at all.  
  
The horses seemed at ease, and Will - not so much. Halt was staring right ahead in obvious thought, eyes fixed on a single spot for longer and longer. Will was looking out for both of them, taking notice of any movement in close proximity, but he still had the time to nervously glance at Halt by his side. As untalkative as he was, he didn't usually keep Will in the dark for so long.   
  
"Halt?"  
  
Halt hummed in response, his thoughts interrupted so suddenly he didn't even manage to be annoyed in time.  
  
"Is the matter we have in Redmont important?"  
  
Even Abelard made a noise of surprise at that.  
  
"If it weren't important," Halt said after a pause that was quite successful in making Will hide his face in the collar of his cloak, "I wouldn't be sacrificing a day of training for it."  
  
"I figured," Will muttered.  
  
Halt snorted. "Why ask, then?"   
  
"I just- I'm, well, I don't know anything."  
  
"If you'd only admitted that a few years ago, my life would've been a lot easier," he commented. Will wasn't easily fazed.  
  
"About Redmont, I mean. What are we going to do there?"  
  
Halt turned slightly in his saddle, glaring down at him. Will, however, had learned how to keep himself from shying away from his mentor's straight stare for a few moments. And, a lot of the time, that's all it took.  
  
He sighed, facing back forward, but didn't tell Will off this time.  
  
"There had been a group of bandits creeping around Redmont, recently. They didn't do much, so most thought of them as just mischievous kids or men bored of living than actual criminals. I told the Baron ignoring them wasn't going to work out in our favour, but he had hopes that Rangers wouldn't have to get involved. Petty thieves, he called them, and Sir Rodney sent one of his men after them." Halt's face twisted in disapproval. "And, of course, as they do, they turned out to be much more capable than anyone expected."  
  
Will looked away into the depth of the woods, unable to stop a question: "What happened to the knight?"  
  
"Dead," Halt answered, deadbeat, and Will bit down on his lip. He expected less. _That is often the mistake_ , as Halt would say. "A good soldier, dead, and his squire maimed. They put up a decent fight, though. Brought down some, and the search party found an injured henchman, one of those "petty thieves", abandoned. And - still - the only reason they're calling is because they need someone else to handle him. Rodney would tear him apart on sight. He has the patience, usually, but it’s not a good case this time, on his own behalf." Halt made a pause, and then added, hesitantly, "The knight was one of his old apprentices. A skilled one, or so I've heard."  
  
"One of his own-"  
  
"Not important, now." Halt scrunched up his nose in disgust at the man they'd be facing today. "What's important is that the Baron has a job to do, and I'll cater to that."  
  
_I'll cater to that_ , he said. Will looked up at him. He seemed strangely still on Abelard, having said all that he was going to say.  
  
"You're to... kill him?" Will asked, a bit worried about the answer. Halt shifted slightly.  
  
"I'm to interrogate him, and, if he cooperates, leave him up to the mercy of the Baron. A mercy which, I'm sure, he's going to get."  
  
Will stayed silent for a little while. Halt didn't speak in riddles if he wanted to speak at all.  
  
"Do you consider death mercy?" He pried, and another sigh came from Halt. He turned at Will, though, seemingly not as bothered by the question as much as he was in thought.  
  
"After a proper Ranger's interrogation, especially if you try and play too tough, death is the only mercy that you’ll want," he said, and Will took note of cold indifference slowly surfacing in his eyes.   
  
Rangerhood came with many things. He had heard about the process of interrogation, of course, of tools fit more to a doctor than a Ranger, but he never paid much mind to it. And now that he saw Halt speak about something like that so calmly, he wondered if he would eventually get used to such an ordeal, too.  
  
"And am I- What am I to do?" He stuttered through. Really, Halt could turn anything into a lesson, should he want to.  
  
"Not much, today." His voice had softened slightly. "I want you to go to Lady Alyss."  
  
Will nearly choked on his own tongue.  
  
"To Alyss? Why? Isn't there something that---"  
  
"One question at a time, please."  
  
He parted his lips, and only Halt's firm glance prevented more questions.  
  
"What do we need from Alyss?"  
  
"I contacted Lady Pauline through the messenger and asked her for the approximate whereabouts of the remaining bandits. As helpful as he thinks he's trying to be, Baron Arald can't let the death of a knight slide so easily. A Ranger will have to assist one way or another."  
  
"But-" Will made a little pause, absent-mindedly chewing his lip. "Isn't the whole point of the interrogation to find out where they went?"  
  
Halt stayed silent long enough for Will to grasp that he'd missed an obvious detail.  
  
"If that's the only source of information accessible. But, Will, imagine this. The bandit is screaming bloody murder and swearing on all of his gods and their grandfathers that they went, say, north." Halt looked over his shoulder to make sure his apprentice was following. "Yes, he may have completely sworn off any guard he had kept up, but, no matter if you'd just whacked him over his head a few times or pulled out all of his fingernails, would you trust him and believe there was not a chance his group went south?"  
  
The answer here was at least obvious.  
  
"No, no, of course not."   
  
Halt nodded.  
  
"So there. Why would you want to ask if anyone had seen them, then?"  
  
"For confirmation." Will finally understood and Halt leaned back slightly.  
  
"For confirmation," he repeated. "And so you are going to Lady Alyss."  
  
"How would she know?" Will asked again, and Halt turned away so his apprentice wouldn't see the shadow of his smile.  
  
"Couriers have their own ways, just as we Rangers have ours."  
  
Needless to say, the relief that Will wouldn't have to watch someone most likely getting tortured - granted, it was no good man - cheered him up immensely, and the news that he'd even get to see one of his dearest friends did nothing to dim the light that surfaced in his eyes. He even held his head a little higher, finally finding himself looking forward to seeing the first glimpses of the towers from behind the tree tops.  
  
As always, this sudden change didn't get past Halt, and, quietly, he reminded:  
  
"There aren't many good opportunities to study interrogation. You'll have to be ready for the next one."  
  
Will perched up in his saddle in wonder.  
  
"Why not this one, then?" He asked sheepishly, planting his eyes firmly on Tug's mane. He didn't want Halt to change his mind, obviously, but curiosity was stronger.  
  
Silence slowly settled. He was about to repeat his question, but Halt shifted and Will realized he had heard him well, only took some time to answer.  
  
"Small steps, Will." Halt let out a grim chuckle. "You don't start out with murderers. You get used to making puny people talk. Thieves, muggers, common folk of the sort. It may be something as simple as sitting down in a tavern and listening to rumours over a cup of coffee. Although it's, well. It's never that easy. Which is why it is not this one."  
  
Will nodded along, pieces slowly coming together as the red roofs began to peek through the thick blankets of leaves. For sure, Halt knew better about this. And, for once, he was glad.  
  
"Come on." Abelard shot forward in a canter, intending to cover what was left of the distance faster. Will pressed his heels against Tug's sides softly, and his horse followed, eagerness and energy in his step.  
  
They made it through in nearly no time at all. Will had a few seconds to marvel at the size of the towers and the red light reflecting off the bricks before he had to slide off Tug. He always managed to be caught off guard by the beauty of Castle Redmont. No other place seemed as magnificent to him as this - and, coincidentally, for quite some time, it was all he knew.  
  
Halt took one glance at his stupidly wide young smile and snorted, also jumping off the saddle. Abelard must've scolded him for it, because he rolled his eyes before leaving his horse behind.  
  
The doors and the few hallways passed rather quickly - Halt murmured something heavy under his breath when asked to show his oakleaf over and over again _. Why can't you just leave it on top of the cloak_ , Will once asked when they were out. Gilan, who was accompanying them, nearly fell off Blaze.   
  
_Are you insane!_ He said hoarsely, having choked on thin air. _We keep our damn belt buckles from getting too shiny, and you ask why we don't staple a silver necklace on top of our cloaks?_    
  
Halt taken a calmer approach. _It'd be like leaving an outlined target for the enemy,_ he'd explained. _A ray of light at the wrong time in the wrong place and you're dead. I'd rather have to pull the leaf out from under my shirt and stuff it back in a few times a day than get an arrow put through my throat._  
  
Will chuckled lightly, remembering the nearly offended expression on Gilan's face.  
  
"What're you giggling about?" Halt's tone was dry and Will's smile died down. Well, Halt did have things to be bleak about today, after all.   
  
"Remembered a different day," he answered, knowing 'nothing' rarely ever sufficed.  
  
"Today's today, stick to it." It was the last thing Halt said before they went around the corner and nearly ran no one else but Baron Arald over.  
  
Usually rather lenient and cheerful, the baron had no trace of a grin on his face today. Instead of a pompous cloak he wore a simple gray vest and was visibly unnerved, nearly jumping at their sudden emerging.  
  
"My lord." Halt nodded in a polite greeting.  
  
"Ah! Ah, Halt, we were expecting you." Baron Arald cracked a thin smile at him and then at Will. "Although we didn't know you were coming, young Will. I thought-"  
  
"He's not," Halt cut him off firmly. "He has a different duty assigned."  
  
Understanding flashed in the Baron's eyes. "I see. Should I give the guards any orders?"  
  
"I'm sure Will knows where to go." Halt glanced at his apprentice over his shoulder, who gave a decisive nod. Of course he knew where to find Alyss- she was with Lady Pauline, and Lady Pauline, as the head diplomat, was always everywhere, whether it was convenient or very much the opposite.  
  
"Alright, well- Then shall we see to the matter at hand?" Baron Arald gestured casually toward the door leading to the cells, where they were initially headed.  
  
The heavy wooden doors were open, and the dim light of a few torches mounted on the wall did little to enlighten the stairs leading downward. It was not a nice environment, and, for the second time today, Will felt relieved that his mentor decided to spare him the course.  
  
"As you wish." Halt's voice was even as always, but Will swore he saw the Ranger distantly chewing down on his lip. It was one of the few habits Will had noticed he shared with him, mostly because Halt just rarely showed any signs of even mild distress.  
  
He came back from thought just in time for Halt to turn to him for the last time and vaguely bow his head toward the hallway.  
  
"Off you go, then."   
  
Will took a few steps before looking over his shoulder and remembering: "When do I come back here?"  
  
Halt raised his eyebrows at the Baron.  
  
"A few hours should do," Baron Arald answered, gently waving Will off.  
  
"I'll find you, if anything," Halt added before disappearing on the staircase, the Baron following closely behind.  
  
Will stood there for a few seconds, listening just because, but, when the first loud voices rang and muffled footsteps echoed, the boy scuttled away in a hurry.  
  
He passed hallway after hallway, and, to his surprise, Lady Pauline was not that easy to find today. He rarely went to her office because she was just as rarely there. Now, however, she was probably back in that small cozy room. In a tower, above way too many stairs than a man should ever aspire to build.  
  
He climbed those with strange growing energy, maybe because he was getting some distance from the gloomy air of the basement, and, just before he stepped into the last hallway, a head of bright hair caught his eye.  
  
It was Alyss, sitting on a windowsill with her whole face in a journal. A quill was jumping up and down between her fingers, the inkhorn swaying to the sides each time she dipped the quill in. Gray eyes were firmly planted on the paper, her handwriting squished and neat as it always was. She seemed so focused Will almost felt bad for interrupting.  
  
But, oh, he had a task as well.  
  
His training had served him well, at least the amount he had for now, or maybe Alyss was just too caught up in her work to see him. Either way, he was unnoticed until he was standing right in front of her.  
  
"Paperwork," he said in mock thought. "I can't believe you chose that as a job." He added it softly so she'd know he's only joking.  
  
Alyss jerked back, then gasped at the inkhorn nearly tipping over, then let out a surprisingly loud snort and, letting the journal slide down onto the windowsill, stood and threw her arms around Will, who nearly lifted her off the ground in his enthusiasm.  
  
"Well, lowly Ranger, even paperwork is fun when you're a sophisticated person, unlike _some_ people," she bit back playfully, and a smile was wide on Will's face again. His mentor was not unpleasant, but he'd certainly missed a friend.   
  
When they separated, Alyss looked curious.  
  
"I didn't know you were coming that early. Lady Pauline sent a messenger a few hours ago, I thought I still had at least a few more to kill for sure."  
  
"Yeah, well- Halt gets up early, and it's not like he lets me sleep for much longer," he laughed, then, furrowing his brows, clarified: "It was Lady Pauline who sent the messenger?"  
  
"Yes, she handles Baron Arald's papers." Alyss raised her eyebrows. "What about it?"  
  
"Oh, just- I was just wondering." Will waved it off hurriedly and put on a grin.   
  
She took a second to watch him with a puzzled expression before standing up and gracefully linking their arms so they could walk together. In truth, she leaned to his ear slightly, voice low.  
  
"Lady Pauline told me their tracks were well-covered and therefore difficult to spot, so the clues are conflicting. We asked around- I did some digging, you know, the more well-known names and whatnot, but they're better than to reveal much about themselves, even on accident." She shook her head, suddenly upset. "I can't believe the Baron only started taking this seriously after somebody died!"  
  
"Well, give him the benefit of the doubt," Will said, trying to focus more on the topic than Alyss' warm hand. "They were hard at work to make sure they _weren't_ taken seriously, and it turned out in their favour. I'm sure everybody's learned the lesson here."  
  
"Except the dead knight, who cannot learn anything, because he's dead, Will." Alyss' eyes drifted to the window and her arm stiffened slightly.  
  
"He was not prepared." He wasn't sure why he was defending the Baron's point of view here. Maybe it was the training. "It's a tragedy, that's a given- but he had no idea about the danger he was going to be in. And everyone's on high alert now, so there's no good chance this will happen again." He tilted his head before adding another one of Halt's common phrases, "Though, chances are the smoothest liars - and still."  
  
"The death will be forgotten. History repeats," Alyss said, and Will felt like she was quoting something. "And, a few years in, the same thing might as well happen again."  
  
"Well, that's what we're here for, isn't it?" He couldn't help a little smile. "Diplomats to remember and Rangers to hold grudges."  
  
She turned at him, and he saw that his grin might've been infectious. She had a thin smile, the corners of her lips barely tugging up, but it was definitely one.  
  
"You're such a..." She gestured vaguely. Will raised an eyebrow, and that seemed to do it. "You're such a Ranger, heavens mercy," she gave a light snort into her hand and Will hid his face in the cloak again. Hearing that felt nice, especially from Alyss, and _especially_ when he didn't even know what he'd done to deserve that comparison.  
  
"I'm not sure I should say "you're such a diplomat" here." Will beamed at her. "You always have been, to tell the truth. The voice of reason, you know?"  
  
"And here I thought Rangers were supposed to represent common sense."  
  
Will shook his head, letting her settle on the windowsill again and gather her utensils. "Common sense and Ranger instincts don't align very well at all."  
  
Pressing all the papers to her chest with one hand and holding the inkhorn with the other, she dove toward Lady Pauline's office at a fast pace. Will barely managed to follow.  
  
"Either way, Lady Pauline should be free to see you. She'll tell you more than I know." Most of the warmth she'd kept for him as a friend had faded a bit when Will opened the door for her, both glancing at the woman with graying hair who was sitting at the table. She stood with grace, beckoning the two of them in.  
  
Lady Pauline was a firm woman and, of course, possibly the best diplomat in Araluen. Will couldn't help but sometimes feel a bit anxious around her - yet her welcoming aura helped. She was not always as strict as her tight bun and thinly pressed lips suggested.  
  
"Come in, Alyss." She gave her apprentice a pleasant nod before offering a small, if a bit tired, smile to Will. "It's good to see you again, Will. Come, sit. We have a lot to discuss this morning."  
  
He just managed to sit down before he was asking and answering questions all at once. Lady Pauline wanted to know as much as she told; it was a trait of a good listener and an extraordinary spy.  
  
There was a long day ahead of them. All of them.  
  
\---  
  
"So, to summarize," Will muttered, hoping to all the gods that might exist he'll get a break soon. "The townspeople are saying they'll head east, a Baron is swearing up and down to have seen them by his castle in the completely different direction, but that _may_ have not been the same group altogether, but that'd mean there are two of those - or they split - or they..." He shook his head as Pauline watched him leniently.   
  
She was not senseless, Will was trying to understand every twist and turn in her explanations to the best of his ability - and she was not explaining to him as a boy but as a Ranger. And, honestly, at that point it might've been a bit too much. She knew Rangers not only trained more intensely, but sat through half of their later training, surprisingly. Mostly alike Couriers. Learning to listen and to interrogate to a much wider extent than earlier in their apprenticeship. Will had a good head on his shoulders, too. He was cut out for it. He just needed, well, guidance, something too thorough for her to provide at the moment, and too Ranger-oriented for her to try.   
  
It was funny, how often Rangers and Couriers - both apprentices and masters - would cross each other in taverns and markets. It'd almost become a tradition to absent-mindedly greet each other, grace the other with a small smile before moving on. _Hey, I know why you're here. I know you know I'm here for the same reason, too._ Those two jobs collided way too often sometimes, even if their methods were wildly different. And, just as Halt never questioned hers, she had no business with his apprentice's either.  
  
Will, in the meantime, seemed to be losing it over the pause he made.  
  
"Could- Could they have split?" He asked, and, sceptically, added, "Can they even _do_ that?"  
  
"Oh, they can even do that and they do even do that, Will." She smiled. He was just pleasant to be around, really. All the better for Alyss. Her apprentice had thrown herself into work in full capacity with dedication that, at times, even Pauline found unsettling. Although, to an extent, endearing. "To throw off those that might want to find them or just to be safe. Sometimes they run off in pairs or alone, which makes it extraordinarily difficult to spot them, even for a Ranger, and it gives them the time and opportunity to rendezvous at a different place altogether."  
  
"But you also said they were rumoured to be escaping to a different country in the first place," Alyss offered. "I don't think that's the case, however."  
  
She linked her fingers together, staring through her apprentice. "No? How come?"  
  
"They didn't know they killed someone significant, right?" Pauline nodded slowly. "Why make an effort to go thousands of miles because of a single man? I'm sure there are murderers amongst them who just don't hold human lives costly at all. They might not even know they're being tailed."  
  
Will's eyes lit up.  
  
"They could be near still, no?" He added, nearly visibly shining in hope. "Then- Tracking them down would be---"  
  
"Even if they were still here when they killed Sir Selby, they most definitely did not stay here if they valued their lives," Pauline interrupted. Will, who had jumped up in his enthusiasm, sat back down next to Alyss, clearly realizing his mistake. "I just heard _this_ much by simply sitting in a tavern and going through a few letters - they'd be listening well, too. They know they're being hunted. They know it very well. That is why we cannot find them."  
  
"But there is the most likely situation," Alyss said. Something flashed between the two Couriers. "Holding on east," she said, and Pauline nodded.  
  
"Two groups in different places, rendezvous in a common location."   
  
"Right!" It was Alyss' turn to jump up. "And if we can find out that location, we can find all of them out as well!"  
  
"Well done, Alyss," Pauline praised her, and made sure to smile at Will as well. "You too, Will."  
  
The boy, however, seemed to be in thought.  
  
"Will?" Alyss asked, and he blinked through it.  
  
"Ah-" He looked up at Pauline, and then at Alyss, then at the door. "Lady Pauline, Alyss, do you mind if I leave you for a minute?" Standing up, he hurriedly explained, "I think telling Halt this would be beneficial. He wouldn't be searching in the dark."  
  
"He's interrogating that wretched murderer, isn't he?" Alyss asked, quiet enough, but Pauline still fixed her with a mere light glance.  
  
"The prisoner, Alyss."  
  
"The prisoner, Lady Pauline," she agreed.  
  
"He's-- Yes, I think so." Will pulled on the side of his cloak subconsciously, biting his lip again. "Which is why the sooner I get to him, the better."  
  
"Don't simply go down there, though," Pauline taught. "Wait for him to get to you. It's better to give an interrogator a little window of time between his subject and other people."  
  
"That's, I, I didn't know that." Will nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you."  
  
"Very well. Rush on, then," she allowed, and, giving Alyss one last warm look, he did just that.  
  
\---  
  
He sat on a windowsill by the stairs leading down to the basement and watched the leaves dance outside. For some reason, he sensed as though the view from the cabin was better than this one. It felt warmer. It felt more like home, somehow. Maybe he was just dozing off, that's why the sill felt cold and unfamiliar.  
  
Just as Will was about to rest his head against the stone wall, to settle in for a longer wait, voices rang from the bottom of the stairs. He scuttled off the windowsill in a hurry, subconsciously pulling down his bronze oakleaf. He liked to leave it on top of his tunic, unlike Halt, who tucked it under his shirt. Will simply liked to be able to reach out and touch it every once in a while, and, even though Halt was visibly not all that happy with it in the name of safety, he never really said anything, and so Will left it as it was.  
  
The door opened with a loud creak - louder than before, it seemed - and Baron Arald stepped out, looking around, a bit disorientated, or so Will thought.  
  
"Ah, Will, there you are," he greeted, a weary smile tugging his lips up. "Done with your duties already?"  
  
"Not yet, my lord." Will bowed his head. "I wanted to speak to Halt, as soon as it's possible."  
  
"Of course, whenever he comes up. Any important news?"  
  
He hesitated.  
  
"If you'd allow me, I'd like to let Halt decide on the importance of said news." He avoided the Baron's curious glance. Whenever there was new information, he brought it to Halt. It was not as if he didn't trust the Baron. Halt was simply the person he was supposed to report to, no one else, and that's what he did.  
  
"Alright, Will. Although, you still may have to wait a while--" Baron Arald glanced over his shoulders and waved the last statement away. "Ah, no, there he is. You were supposed to stay down a bit, weren't you?"

 

Halt emerged from behind the basement door, having made little noise going up the stairs. Politely, he offered the Baron another nod.  
  
"I heard you two talking, my lord. I'd like to hear my apprentice out now, if that wouldn't be trouble."   
  
Will quirked his eyebrow. Halt's tone was more cutting than usual, firm and unchallengeable. The Baron didn't seem like he was going to argue anyway, albeit he seemed a little disappointed.  
  
"I see. No, that's no trouble at all. I'll be expecting you back down soon, then." As the Baron nodded to Will and turned to go, Halt finally emerged, adding dryly:  
  
"I'm not planning to run away, my lord."  
  
Will _swore_ he heard a silent _Why are you always like that_ before Halt turned to him.  
  
He looked - well, Halt never looked all that happy, just content, and that neutral expression was untouched, but there were some awfully little things about him that seemed out of place, that seemed... uncomfortable.  
  
His eyes were a bit wider, staring straight ahead like on the ride there. His hair just above his forehead was shining - a washed face, Will thought. And Halt's arms, which were at first firmly by his sides, now had been crossed tightly. It nearly strained Will just from looking.  
  
"What is it?" He asked. Will had long hopped down from the window sill, subconsciously eyeing the door behind him.   
  
"I've been to Lady Pauline," he answered, lacing his fingers under the cloak. "She suspects the bandits to keep heading east split into a few smaller groups. When they're sure it's safe, they should unite again in a location of their choosing. "

 

"Does she have any idea if it'll be remote or public?" Halt kept on, and Will suddenly had a distinct suspicion that it was not very easy to switch from interrogation to just, well, talking to people.   
  
"I didn't ask," he confessed and Halt pressed his eyes shut.  
  
"Do next time," he asked. "Question everything. It's what you're best at, anyway." Will nodded, taking it simply as a fact and not an insult. Realizing that his mentor couldn't see it, he rushed:  
  
"I will."  
  
Halt joined him by the windowsill, eyes open again and glance skittering over the landscape, diving through leaves and low grass. He wasn't looking for anything. Just looking.  
  
"Halt?"  
  
No response came, so Will figured to just ask and get it over with.  
  
"How is it?"  
  
"Not ideal," he admitted, a sour taste dripping from his tone. "The Baron wants us to hurry it up, and that's exactly what that bastard wants as well. What's to it if I take out his eyes and he bleeds out in a quarter of an hour without telling me anything? It'd be a waste."  
  
Something told Will Halt wouldn't be very keen about telling him that if it hadn't been frustrating him quite an amount. And even though Will would've probably preferred hearing about eyes in that regard someday other than today, he could understand how irksome being pestered about it could've been.  
  
And, in true fashion of a boy who spent the first few months of his apprenticeship trying to get his mentor to smile at him, Will mustered up a shadow of one and asked, "Why not take out just one of them, then?"  
  
It sounded outright morbid, but Halt's shoulders just jerked in a barely noticeable shrug.  
  
"I did." The reply was short and seemed nearly disinterested.  
  
Involuntarily, Will's eyes drifted down to Halt's hands, but they were clean. _Of course he washed it off_ , he didn't know what he expected.   
  
Still, as stoic as Halt was and as much authority as his figure exhibited, even as good as he was known to be with a bow and in a fight- Will rarely ever thought of him as a brutal person, or at least not someone who would be absolutely cold-hearted in a situation where he had to take someone's eye out.  
  
He watched as a single finger twitched under the strain of his hand. Halt had fixed his eyes on something outside - or, perhaps, nothing at all. Will swallowed, looking down at his shoes. _Will I be like that_ , he wondered voicelessly, _is there really no way to tolerate it?_ Halt was, after all, used to most things one could get used to.  
  
Or, perhaps, getting used to carving people's insides was not a preference of his, and neither should it be Will's.  
  
"Do you think he'll talk?" He broke the silence, and, after a pause, Halt nodded.  
  
"He will. It's either that or a few long, long weeks for him, and he doesn't strike me as a masochist at all." It took a strange sting of satisfaction in his voice for Will to remember that the man who was kept down in the basement would gladly kill innocents, and it was more than enough to flatten whatever sympathy he'd been developing.   
  
Halt crossed his arms, and, quieter than most times, asked, "Talk about something else, if you will."  
  
"Like what?" Will fidgeted, his head devoid of thoughts. Only half-jokingly, he suggested, "Dinner?"  
  
"Not if I have a say in it." Halt snorted, and it was the most expressionate he'd been during their short talk. "It's going to feel like everything tastes of ashes for a good few days after."  
  
"Ah, I- I see, um." He took a moment to stomach the implications of that. Curious, he asked, "Have you done a lot of interrogations?"  
  
Halt gave a brief sigh and Will remembered his request of not talking about it for the time being. Feeling his ears flush up in red, he tried to think of something else, but Halt cut his train of thought off.  
  
"Not many are needed, nowadays." His eyes, strangely lenient, were back on Will now. "Which is why apprentices have generally started to study it later. In the years of active war, or revolts, or just about any situation when there were a lot of hostages, interrogations were a Ranger's bread and butter."  
  
Before Will could react to that, the wood creaked behind them - silently, but they were Rangers.   
  
The Baron's balding head peeked out, and, in a truly apologetic voice, he said, "Halt, if you may..." He jerked his head toward the basement wordlessly, and Halt took a breath.  
  
"A minute," he asked, and Arald, after considering it for a moment, nodded and disappeared.   
  
"Why so soon?" Will wondered, and Halt turned back to him.   
  
"We don't want him to get too comfortable." He squinted at Will, and, out of the blue, asked, "Have you eaten?"  
  
"I- What?" Will blinked in surprise. "Well- Yeah, in the morning, before we headed out..? You saw me." Halt shook his head.  
  
"No, other than that."  
  
"Err... No?" Will raised an eyebrow, an involuntary mirror of Halt's own behaviour. It seemed like it wasn't only rangerhood Halt was teaching him.   
  
"Find something to eat, then." Halt gestured toward the basement in slight disapproval. "This might take some time."  
  
There was some tension behind the way he'd said it, as if the mere thought of going back behind the creaking door was straining him. Will chewed down on his lip, looking out through the window again and freezing as Halt had done a minute ago. Really, he was having more and more doubt on how he's gonna handle interrogations on his own if even Halt glanced over his shoulder so hesitantly. Finally turning to return, Halt brushed his hand on Will's shoulder lightly.   
  
"Tell Pauline we're having difficulties, so she has at least a few more hours. If she sends out her apprentice, you can go with her." Easily, he added, "Maybe she can teach you something as well."   
  
A silent and oddly joyless chuckle was the last sound to echo in the hallway before he disappeared into the basement. Will didn't even have a moment to show surprise at Halt's ditching of all titles. Either way, he had a task again, and he turned on his heel to make for the stairs, cursing the day, the bandit and the long climb back to the tower.  
  
\--------  
  
_You won't tell me? You won't?  
  
East, I swear on my mother's life! East! They decided--  
  
No. Talk. You're not talking. What are you not saying?  
  
I've told you everything I know, I swear, I swear, God, please--  
  
Alright. Let's see. Which was your sword hand, again?  
  
I've told you! I've told you everything!   
  
I’m afraid I don't believe that.  
  
I- I- Don't! I swear, I have nothing more- Wait! Please!  
  
Talk. Don't scream. Talk, and I'll stop. All you have to do is talk.  
  
Please...!  
  
Talk.  
_  
A wet slash.  
  
_Talk._  
  
A rounder thump.  
  
_Talk._  
  
A muffled cough and desperate gasping.  
  
_Talk. Talk. Talk.  
  
I, I, I will! I will, I will, stop! I'll talk! Stop, stop! I'll talk!  
  
_A moment of silence and breaths that were far too shallow.

 _Very well. I'm listening, then.  
_  
\-----  
  
"All we're getting is east," Alyss muttered into her pie. Will was nodding absentmindedly as he bit into an apple, both things purchased from a stand in a rather convenient fair. Nobody would ever suspect a group packing and moving during a fair, Will told Alyss, who had probably thought of that as well when she first saw it. _Perhaps they chose the occasion specifically_ , she added. "East, east, east. No diversity."  
  
"I listened to them talking, Alyss," Will reminded her, feeling like the ache in his bones was so jarring it had been passed down generations just to collectively double down on him with the power of all his ancestors combined. He stretched, nearly dropping his apple. Alyss only hummed in acknowledgement, continuing to nibble on her pie.   
  
They were both tired; there was nothing else to be said. They passed stand after stand, chatting, disinterestedly picking up various adornments they weren't going to buy and listening to rumours (Alyss' cheery attitude helped with some, the Courier pin on her coat - with others, and the bronze oakleaf on Will's chest helped with the rest). And all they got was one answer, the same across all the different lips it travelled through- east, east, east.  
  
It probably became an inside joke of theirs somewhere there, because every time someone new answered with the exact same words, they glanced at each other and voicelessly mouthed "go east" with increasingly exaggerated expressions.  
  
Right now, though, they had settled on the outskirts of the square, slouching on a lonely bench after Will had told Alyss if he heard one more "east" he'd lose it, and she had only nodded in silent agreement.   
  
"Almost makes me think Halt's wasting his time down there," she said. Jumping to his mentor's defense, Will shook his head, momentarily forgetting about his apple.  
  
"He's not," he managed through a bite that got stuck in his throat. Alyss hit him on the back lightly. He leaned back, grateful, and continued, "He wants be sure of everything."  
  
"Well, we asked more than a few dozens. In the hundreds, actually, if my number is right. Isn't _that_ making sure?"   
  
Will shrugged. Then again, he saw how awfully tired Halt looked when they talked. And he'd seen him stay nights up, drowning in papers, leaving three separate mugs on the same table, and, in the mornings, he looked remarkably awake. Certainly more awake than a few hours ago, at least. Halt looked like he hadn't had any sleep for... Well, a week would be a good guess.  
  
Will had no idea a man - especially a man like Halt - could exhaust himself so visibly over the span of a few hours.  
  
"He's not doing it for nothing." The trust in his tone surprised even him. Alyss leaned in, listening. "Look, if I know one thing about Halt, it's that-" he stifled a nostalgic chuckle. "-it's that you can't lie to him. You can't. When I think about it, it's probably because he's already lied so much in his life he can spiritually sense it," he grinned, and Alyss turned away, hiding a smile. He laced his fingers together, trying to place his thoughts in order. "Either way, what I mean is- That guy, the one who they found by the knight, Halt can likely tell if he's lying. He took Lady Pauline's "east", he gave it some thought, but he went right back in after, so I," Will took a short breath. "I think he knows there's something else that murderer's hiding."  
  
Alyss was silent for a moment, gaze diving through the crowd circling the fair. "I hope you're right," she finally said, shifting uncomfortably.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Lady Pauline wasn't very keen on interrogation," she revealed, and Will furrowed his brows. Waving off his question before he could ask, she explained, "She didn't _say_ anything about it, of course, but she didn't like it, it was rather easy to tell. And Lady Pauline's... not easy to see through. Like Halt, in a way, I suppose."  
  
"And she didn't like it, because...?"  
  
"It's not, well..." she swayed her head to the side slowly. "It's not all that pleasant of an ordeal. To everyone involved."  
  
"I got that much."  
  
"She worries," Alyss ended. Will nodded.  
  
"I do too," he confessed. "But Halt knows what he's doing. We're gonna find everything out."  
  
"Yeah, unless that man's stalling for time." Alyss eyes grew darker with disdain.   
  
"Halt could tell."  
  
"You sure have a lot of faith in him, Will." She caught his glance, and Will easily kept contact.  
  
"He's Halt," he said; really, it was as simple as that. "It's hard _not_ having faith in him."  
  
After a moment of silence, Alyss laughed, and her laughter sounded more joyful than it had before. The evening was brightening around them even as darkness was slowly starting to fall.  
  
They eyed the sky in comfortable silence for a bit, secure in knowing they'd done their job, even though it didn't tell them anything new. They didn't need to hurry. Besides, the apple had been nice, the emerging stars were even nicer, so Alyss was undoubtedly the nicest part of this, and that's to say the least. _Oh, go figure._  
  
She stretched just as he had, and finished her pie at last.  
  
"I say we go back," Will suggested so she didn't have to, masking hesitance. "We've done what we had to."  
  
She nodded, swallowing the last bite, and jumped from the bench, Will following closely behind. In front of them, shopkeepers were packing their belongings, and, as they walked past, a few waved casually at Alyss, who returned the gesture with a small smile on her face.   
  
Being a Courier apparently meant getting to know quite some people, Will gathered. Their cloaks had the opposite effect - if you wanted people to talk, Halt said to him once, you'll leave the cloak behind. And now Will felt as if he was oddly naked without it, having left it behind on one of the chairs next to Lady Pauline's table. Apparently making do without the sense of safety and the remarkable amount of invisibility it provided was rather unpleasant after he'd gotten used to it.  
  
"In thought?" Alyss asked when he nearly walked into her before the door. Her eyes were empathetic, and he wouldn't tell her that she got the wrong idea.   
  
He _was_ in thought, after all. And the day had brought more than any of them expected, but, in the end, he clung onto the hope that it'd be sorted out soon enough.  
  
Alyss led him through the halls, navigating the castle better than him since long before they left the ward. Will could easily climb towers, jump through windows and, of course, get on the nerves of various authority figures, but few could match Alyss in her sheer instinctual sense of direction. _Natural-born_ , George would say.   
  
After reaching a branch in corridors, she froze in place. Will, having learned from his mistakes, managed not to step onto her heels by a hair's distance.   
  
"Through the basement or the second floor?" She asked, and Will rounded her.  
  
"Basement," he said, diving forward without so much as an explanation. There was no need for one.  
  
That's where he heard cluttering coming from. They both did. Muffled noises, footsteps and old wood singing. Sounds of people, and of talking, and he couldn't recognize a single one.  
  
Alyss moved close by like a shadow until they emerged right by the door that had been swung open.   
  
The small group of people was just leaving. In their arms, a red figure wrapped in black cloth. Alyss, less per etiquette as per distaste, raised a hand to cover her mouth, and Will felt like he was just about to do the same.   
  
The body was not struggling, and neither was it leaving a trail. There was a nauseating smell, but not of blood.  
  
There was no blood to leave a trail.  
  
Will subconsciously grabbed Alyss by the sleeve, but she wasn't moving, only loosely shaking her head. The man was dead, dead, and his death had undoubtedly been longer than the knight's.   
  
"His will prevent more that of innocent people," Will muttered to Alyss. She took a breath.  
  
"It will," she whispered back, resting a still hand on his shoulder, "If Halt got something out of him."  
  
"I'll find it out." In his haste, he took a step forward, and, immediately, one back again.   
  
Baron Arald, who'd been preoccupied with directing the man carrying the body, now turned to them. His voice had been quiet, which was why Will hadn't recognized it- but there was another voice he didn't hear, and its owner was nowhere to be seen.  
  
Alyss by his side knew his thoughts, he could sense it.   
  
"Ah, Lady Alyss, Will, we're-" Arald cut himself off and resumed after a pause, "We're nearly finished, it's a bit of a shame you walked in at just the moment."  
  
Alyss' voice was silky and even, untouched by the slightest hint of previous confusion or disgust. "We have just the luck, it appears," she said, lightly jerking her head in just the right direction. "My lord, if I may ask, where's the interrogator?"  
  
Arald furrowed his brows for a second. "Oh! Halt!" He let out a light laugh and made a wide gesture as to tell there was no cause for worry. "Lost him in the ruckus. I believe he might be down there still."  
  
Will had already passed behind him and the door even before he’d finished talking, his footsteps exceptionally quiet and the brush of his cloak exceptionally light on Arald's arm. If it hadn't been for that, he might've not even noticed the apprentice.  
  
"Will!" He called, then, briefly concluding that there was most likely no stopping a Ranger when he already had a head start, so, instead, he warned, "You might want to consider--"  
  
"Time window, I know!" Will answered, skipping every second stair. He heard the door close behind him, but it didn't matter all that much, then.   
  
The smell was worse as he headed down, forcing him to put some effort into resisting covering his nose. It was foul. Iron, the sense of blood and of death, invasive and encasing. It got through to him through his skin, irritating his head.  
  
He nearly tripped down the last few stairs, making a leap for it and landing somewhat softly for such a high jump. Then, as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the basement, he saw a figure nearly clean-pressed into the wall, blending comfortably into the shadows despite having ditched their customary cloak as well.  
  
Halt's eyes were closed, his arms were crossed, and he was not moving at all. But there was no way he didn't hear Will.  
  
Will tilted his head. "Halt?"  
  
"Will," he responded, making no other indication toward seeing him. Quiet breathing.  
  
"Did you--" He didn't really know what to ask, a lot of thoughts were circling in his head at once. Finally settling on one, the somewhat less obvious one, he continued, "Did he tell you anything?"  
  
"Is he dead?" Halt asked. It wasn't a question, not really, a hint toward the answer.  
  
"He's- Yes, he's dead, I think he is," Will answered.  
  
Halt gave a nod. "Then assume he did. He wouldn’t have died if I needed him alive for anything else. We've finished."  
  
Finally, he tore his eyes open, watching straight ahead and blinking to get used to the light in the basement, faint as it may be.   
  
"Two groups east," he said, and his voice grew colder. He flicked a finger up, turning to Will. "And one north."  
  
Will felt like the other side of the basement was suddenly moving away from him. "North," he repeated in disbelief. "North? All we got was east, and, from the look of things, they weren't being all that secretive, either..."   
  
An apathetic snort came suspiciously from Halt's direction, but Will continued.   
  
"Are you- Are you sure he didn't-" _Of course he's sure he didn't lie_ , Will bit his tongue. "I mean, we asked..." he remembered Alyss' words. "We questioned people in the hundreds. Not one mentioned north, not even a hint."  
  
"What is interrogation for, Will?" Halt asked, a repetition of a conversation they'd already had. Before Will could reply again, he ended himself: "It's for confirmation. And if confirmation doesn't match up with what you initially thought, you correct your views. We already found they're better than we thought they were, what makes you think they won't spread a rumour on where they're going and then turn around to do the complete opposite?"  
  
"Then," Will interrupted, flushed in the ears but determined to get to the bottom of the barrel, "Then why two groups east? Why one north? Why even spread the rumours if they're gonna do more or less exactly what they said they were doing? Why-"  
  
Halt raised a hand, and Will promptly recalled his request of numbering questions.  
  
One by one, Halt answered all of them.  
  
"Two groups are stronger together and will make sure not to get cornered even if they get chased. One group north is effective backup if the two others groups do somehow end up in trouble. And the fact that they're spreading rumours means they're not underestimating us."  
  
Halt took a breath, and Will - wisely - decided to stick with one question at a time. His mentor looked like he was about to either throw something at him or pass out, and, honestly, the line between the two should never be as blurry.  
  
"How?"  
  
"Some will hear the rumours and decide they're the honest truth, which has proved to be rather condemning," Halt looked up at him, raising an eyebrow in disapproval, and Will nodded, properly embarrassed. "Others will hear the rumours and decide the bandits spread them on purpose, then do the complete opposite. It's a bit more promising, but not quite. But if you think- if you _think_ , Will, - it's your favourite case of "they think we'll do that so we'll do that but then they'll think we're doing that and won't do what they were doing before," or..." Halt pinched the bridge of his nose. "I don't know how I managed to remember that and I don't want to know how you came up with it." Will wheezed into his shirt as Halt continued, "They knew Rangers would consider every option there was, and they took according precautions. " A glint of passive satisfaction surfaced in his eye. "Still not enough, though, apparently. However it may be, our best route now is to let Castle Araluen know about the groups since they're heading in its general direction."  
  
"Did he say where they were meeting again?"  
  
"He didn't know." Halt's eyes skittered to the other wall. The door to another room was closed, they were merely in a corridor, but the previous smell of a corpse managed go get past the wood.  
  
"He didn't?"  
  
"You'd think you'd generally start knowing everything after getting your fingers cut off," Halt suppressed a grim chuckle. "No, if he didn't know it then, then he really didn't."  
  
Instinctively, Will dug his fingers into his palm, the scent of blood still looming somewhere above them.   
  
"Are we going to chase either?"  
  
"That's to be considered." Halt's eyelids slowly fluttered down again. "You and I won't be able to do much alone except for putting a few arrows through a few heads before they find us out. Yet dragging armoured knights along isn't always the best course of action in concern of noise."  
  
"Then what will we do?"  
  
Silence settled for a while, but Will was unwilling to believe Halt didn't have an answer. Halt always had an answer. He did now, as well, but, Will realized, he'd been against the wall looking like he was going to fall asleep standing up.  
  
Acutely aware of his pause, Halt hummed in thought before finally answering.  
  
"Again, Rangers will have to get involved in order to prevent more damage, but we can't ask them to just abandon their fiefs."   
  
"There are those who don't have fiefs yet, though," Will noted, and Halt nodded along, a little life back in his face.  
  
"Would you send them out for the hunt?" Before Will could answer, he made a narrow gesture, _no, think about it better_. "The new Rangers? The ones who've received their leaves a few years, if not months ago? Men barely over twenty, would you send them out for those who defiled a talented and properly trained knight who carried all his weapons right by his side?"  
  
"No," Will admitted, involuntarily putting himself in comparison. "But who, then?"  
  
Halt shrugged. "I'll write to Crowley, since he's based in Castle Araluen anyway. Word travels fast between Rangers, you know that. I'd suggest some older Rangers take on the job while the younger ones take over their fiefs for a little while. It's good practice."  
  
"I see." Will's thoughts seemed to be rearranged rather neatly again. Halt raised a finger; he wasn't finished yet.  
  
"We'll leave for one of the east groups the day after tomorrow, if Crowley thinks arranging everything quick is to our advantage. If he doesn't, we'll set off tomorrow. I'll write Gilan as well- he's not too far away, as I know. He might be able to watch over Redmont for a week or so." With that, he finally moved from the wall, standing completely still for a second to regain balance before rounding Will for the stairs. Will stepped to the side to let him pass, throwing one last unwilling glance at the door of the basement.  
  
In a way, he was glad to have seen it so his imagination wouldn’t make up dreadful imagery, but, similarly, it meant he was going to see it again. Maybe he'll take Halt's place by the wall one day.  
  
He wasn't sure how he felt about it, but that day was not today, and it was good enough.  
  
Halt, however, seemed livelier the further he climbed from the basement, and, yet, still. His step was heavier than before and his eyes shot sharp looks from below. Will followed right behind him, head tilted partly in curiosity and partly in worry.  
  
Mostly in worry.  
  
\------  
  
The outside seemed to do wonders to both of them. It was as if finally being in the saddle again brought new air into their lungs. Halt had sent his letters; Will had bid goodbye to Alyss and Pauline, the latter of whom stared him up and down for a moment and saw him out by wishing both him and Halt luck on tracking down the bandits. They'll need it, Will knew that, but at least today was over and done with.  
  
The night had long-settled over the village when they rode out at last. Strangely, Will felt like sleep was starting to creep up on him despite all the anxiety of the day. Maybe it was the dim crinkling stars, maybe it was the even rhythm of Tug's hooves on the ground accompanied with heavier ones of Abelard next to them, maybe it was the quiet that Will was - _finally_ , as Halt would say - unwilling to disturb.  
  
And yet Halt himself had said nothing. There was still something difficult looming above him. But Will saw the reins resting easy in his hands, he saw him sitting straight in his saddle and decided it was probably okay. When wasn't it okay with Halt, really.  
  
As they approached the village on their way to the woods, a single candle was lit in a window to their side. Halt turned sharply, and Will reached for his saxe instinctively, startled by the sudden movement.  
  
Halt watched the candle and the face that peeked curiously through the window for a second. "Hood up," he muttered, facing back forward and pulling his own over his head.  
  
Will complied, noting nonetheless, "It's just a villager."  
  
After a moment of silence, Halt nodded. "So it is." And that was that.  
  
As the treetops seemed to wave at them, swaying their dark branches to the sides, Will spent a full minute watching them in thought. It had been quite a day. Exhausting, to say the least. Full of first impressions, most of all.  
  
"Not this one, you said, earlier," he finally broke the silence.  
  
"What?" Halt turned at him, his eyes reflecting the starshine. Darker than usual, it seemed.   
  
"You didn't teach me interrogation today," Will explained. There was the slightest sound of Halt clicking his tongue in annoyance as he turned away. Will didn't relent. "You said, "not this one." That a murderer is left for another time, shortly. When?"  
  
Another pause. Hesitantly, Halt said, "When one comes along." Before Will could ask another question, he added in a nearly casual tone, "Believe me, there are plenty. Rangers are just not sent for interrogation often."  
  
"Yeah." He'd told him that earlier, too. "That's why you're being odd?"  
  
"I'm not being odd," Halt claimed, rather calm. Didn't take it as an insult, clearly. It was not meant to be. It was meant to be a fact, and he didn't take it as that either. "I'm tired."  
  
_Ah, gods, the world is ending_ , Will thought. Halt wouldn't admit to exhaustion on his deathbed.   
  
"You know, I'm just- and I'm just saying, yeah? You're not making interrogation look easy."  
  
He could practically hear Halt raising his eyebrows.  
  
"I never said it was going to be easy, of all things."  
  
"No," Will agreed. "But everything else, it looks to be so easy when you do it. Bows, knives, cartography, all that. And you don't, now." 

Another moment of silence, and Halt sighed.  
  
"I don't know what you want me to tell you, Will."  
  
"No, I don't, I don't know either." A chuckle escaped him. A pitiful one. "Just that- I don't know. I don't know how I'm gonna learn it if you're like that after it. You're not, well, you're not easily fazed."  
  
Abelard slowed down so he was riding side by side with Tug, and Halt leaned forward a little, catching Will's gaze.  
  
Firmly, just as before, he told him, "Will, I'm not trying to make you into myself." _God forbid_ , he added under his breath, and Will nearly felt offended on his own teacher's behalf. Nevertheless, Halt continued.  
  
"I'm trying to make you _better_ ," he said.

 Will looked away, eyeing the road.   
  
"How likely is that, really?" He asked, letting out another half-laugh.   
  
Halt didn't answer at first, but Will saw him shake his head and speed Abelard up before replying.  
  
"Unlikely, if you expect things to be easy."  
  
Will parted his lips, made a little noise of surprise, and lightly clicked his heels against Tug's side as well, chasing Abelard.  
  
"I don't expect things to be easy!" He called. Halt snorted. Involuntarily or not, a smile had spread over Will's face. It was better. The closer they got to the cabin, the better it felt. Maybe it wasn't even clean air anymore.  
  
Just distance from death, from the basement and from that smell.  
  
Silently, Will hoped that, when he senses it again, he'll feel ready. Just as silently, Halt reassured him that it'll take quite some time until he has to. So Will, content in his probably-corpse-free immediate future, made do with talking about something else for the rest of the trip.  
  
Reining Tug in, he offered to brew coffee, but Halt waved him off to bed without so much as a cup.   
  
"If you're not up at dawn tomorrow, you're not sleeping overmorrow," he warned, and Will scuttled off, hiding a grin. That was his mentor again, finally.  
  
It had been a long day indeed. But, in the end, nothing he wouldn't see again.   
  
Maybe that's what Rangers did, in the end, that set them apart from Couriers and Knights and the townspeople. They relied on the future just as much as the past.  
  
Before his eyelids tore themselves down involuntarily, Will watched the wind settle down, tearing the last leaves off the branches and into his window again.

 

**Author's Note:**

> thank you very much for reading!!


End file.
